


Once Upon an Opera

by Rumbellelives



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Once Upon an Opera, Phantom!Rumple, Rumbelle - Freeform, Rumbelle told through phantom of the opera, The Dark One (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5718397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumbellelives/pseuds/Rumbellelives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle; a ballet girl who has always dreamed of being a singer. Rumple; a lonely man who lives in the opera house, falling desperately in love with the beautiful Belle. Will the two be united by true love? Or will a dark curse keep them away from each other forever? (The story of Rumbelle with a Phantom of the Opera twist! Please read and review, dearies.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He's Here!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: About four months ago, I fell in love with the Phantom of the Opera. His story was so beautiful to me, his story of love and loss, of pain and heartbreak. The Phantom reminded me of Rumple in a way… so naturally I had to write a fanfiction crossing the stories over.
> 
> This is a retelling of Rumbelle's story, Phantom of the Opera style! This fanfic is a gift to my lovely followers on Tumblr. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it.
> 
> A few more housekeeping things before we begin!
> 
> PLEASE my friends, review this chapter so I know your thoughts. Also feel free to follow me on Tumblr (username: Rumbellelives)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Rumbelle, OUAT, or Phantom of the Opera. I only borrow them so I can create beautiful stories and cry while eating chocolate.

 

Chapter 1: He's Here!

"Sold."

The single word echoes around the high ceilings of the theater. Darkness bleeds from every corner of the large room, engulfing a little group of people, who all stand gathered around an assortment of objects.

There are all sorts of items all scattered about. A rocking chair rests on its side, one of the wooden legs snapped off. A small gold picture frame leans against a wall in the corner. A porcelain figure of a white horse stands on two legs, tossing its head into the sky.

Something looms in front of the pile of things, covered by a threadbare, tan sheet. It's the biggest object in the room, but it is covered. That still doesn't keep everyone from knowing exactly what this object is. A chandelier, once the prized and esteemed decoration of the opera house, now laying on the floor.

"Your number sir?" the man standing at the front of the crowd says. He pushes up a pair of spectacles on his nose and blinks a few times. "Thank you, good sir."

The auctioneer continues to sell off a few things, small trinkets and items that had been gathering dust. A little jeweled neckless passes to a woman standing in the back. Blood red rubies glint in the faint light.

"Lot 665 then," the auctioneer calls. He holds up a little porcelain cup, something small and delicate. The handle is painted gold. Little streaks of blue are visible on the curved side of the cup, flowing together like water in a stream. The rim is blemished, a little chip missing from the top.

A chipped cup. Not normally valuable. An object that wouldn't even get a second glance normally.

"I'll start at 10 francs," the auctioneer states.

Someone in the back, a man with light brown hair, raises his hand almost immediately. He stares at the teacup, eyes never moving from it.

"Fifteen, then? Do we have fifteen?" The auctioneer seems slightly surprised, but he wont complain. This is business after all. He just doesn't quite understand why someone would want an object so… worthless.

Someone else raises their hand, a woman with red curly hair and a pinched face. A green hat perches on top of her head like a bird about to take flight. The man who first raised his hand for the teacup flinches, his hands shaking just a little.

"Do you really need it, William?" the man's friend asks. "It's not valuable in…"

"It's valuable to me," William snaps, raising his hand again when the auctioneer calls out for 20 francs.

"Will, you're going to spend all of your money," the man whispers. "Please think rationally about this…"

"It's Belle's cup… It's…" his voice cracks. No one has challenged him for the cup again. He gets it for 20 francs.

The cup gets passed back to him, and he clutches it to his chest. "It's just as she described it," Will mutters to himself, running his finger down the cold porcelain, tracing the little blue pattern on the side. The chip is sharp and cuts his finger. A crimson drop of blood drips down the side, coming to rest at the bottom of the cup.

Will stares at it, feeling no pain.

"Belle…" He whispers her name into the darkness.

XXX

Light yellow sunlight spills into the streets, pooling in the dirt like liquid gold. The sky is tinged pink, softly blending into the pale blue like watercolors in a painting.

The streets are empty early in the morning. No one has gotten up for work yet, the day still new. No one, that is, except for a young woman. She is running, still trying to pull her coat over her shoulders. She trips over her skirts, stumbling and nearly falling.

"Come on," she mutters to herself. "You got this, Belle…"

She is late to work, late to the first rehearsal that they are going to have over the new opera. Madame Mills was going to kill her. She was almost never late, but that didn't seem to matter to the old grouchy woman, whom only seemed to pick the faults out in other people (even in her own goddaughter).

Belle has never understood why the opera house living quarters were so far away form the actual opera house. It hasn't really been a problem for her until now… or… maybe it had. She can't remember the last day she was this late.

Belle starts running again, her hand flying to her hair. The brown curls are falling out of their carefully constructed bun, bouncing into her eyes. She spits one out of her mouth.

One more street and she will make it.

_Boongggg!_

The first bell marking the sixth hour. She had mere seconds to get to work or she is late. She cuts through a back alley, around the corner and straight up to the door of the opera house right when the sixth bell tolls.

She opens the door slowly, praying that Madame Mills hadn't spotted her missing yet.

"Belle."

Damn.

The woman stands up on the stage, her arms folded over her chest. Her black hair is tied back from her piercing eyes, a tight, immaculate bun on the top of her head.

"Sorry, Madame Mills," she says, gasping out the words. "I… It…"

"Don't make excuses, girl," Madame Mills snaps. Her hand is clenched at her side and her nostrils flare. She looks like a bull about to charge. "Just go get in your uniform and fix that god awful bun. You're wasting all of our time."

Belle can feel tears prickling at the back or her eyes, but she takes a breath.

You will not cry.

It is something that she tells herself all the time, ever since her father died. Every time she felt the burning in her eyes, the pounding in her skull she bites the inside of her cheek and repeats the words over and over like a mantra.

You will not cry.

You will not cry.

It might not be healthy, but it works.

She goes back to the dancers dressing room, grabbing her uniform off the rack, letting the smooth fabric run over her fingers. It's red, green and gold, the skirt made out of strands of ribbon. She slips it on, pulling the tights up her legs. It clings to her skin and she twirls once, letting the skirt unfurl.

She looks at the corset. _Time to try this_ … she thinks to herself. How hard could it be, putting a corset on by herself?

It turns out, very hard.

She can't see the crisscrossing strings in the back, can't figure out quite how to lace it up.

"Belle?"

She jumps in fright. But it is only Ruby, her best friend here at the opera house.

"Can I have some help?" Belle asks and Ruby smiles, stepping over to her. Her fingers dance across the corsets back, weaving the ribbon in and out of the little holes, lacing it up.

Everything about Ruby is graceful. From the way she walks into the room with her toes pointed to the way she writes, her hand flowing across the page, dotting her i's and crossing her t's as if she has been writing cursive her whole life. She's the most beautiful girl and best dancer that Belle has ever met.

"Is Madame Mills really upset with me?" Belle asks.

"She'll get over it." Ruby finishes tightening the corset, stepping back and smiling at her friend. "There. You're beautiful."

"Thank you, Ruby," Belle says with a smile, walking to the door.

"You're forgetting something," Ruby says.

Belle stands for almost a full minute before realizing she hadn't fixed her hair.

"Oh," Belle mumbles, pulling a pin out of her hair. "Thanks, Ruby."

The girl wordlessly helps her do her bun again. Belle smiles.

What would she ever do without Ruby?

XXX

"About time you showed up," Madame Mills snaps to them when they step out of the dressing room.

"Sorry, Regina," Ruby says. "Her hair… took a little longer than we expected it to."

"It's Madame Mills, Ruby. Just because you're my goddaughter doesn't mean you get any special privileges. Now get back in the formation."

Belle stands in her spot in the back, holding her arms over her head in a graceful curve. She begins going through the motions of the dance, pointing her toes and arching her back along with the other girls around her.

She bites the side of her cheek. Her mind begins wandering, thinking about the book that she was reading before rehearsal. It had been about a king falling in love with a beggar. She smiles when she remembers the story.

This isn't the life that Belle wanted. Dancing… dancing had never been her passion, her dream. It had been her father's. But she had to earn money somehow, and this was the only thing she truly knew how to do.

"Belle, what in god's name are you doing? You look like an elephant! Please for the love of everything holy, point your toes!"

Well… almost knew how to do.

She grimaced and pointed her toes even more, hoping that the day would be over soon.

XXX

"That's enough for the day girls," Madame Mills calls to them. "We will start on more of the opener tomorrow. Don't be late."

Regina Mills looked directly at Belle when she said this.

Belle can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She looks down at her shoes, trying not to focus on the chatter of the other girls.

"Sorry."

Belle turns to see Ruby, who is picking the pins out of her hair. Her long, dark brown locks fall over her back. She gives Belle a crooked smile. "She had no right to treat you that way."

"I mean… she did have the right," Belle says. "I was late."

"No she really didn't," Ruby says. She looks at her friend straight in the eyes. "Now stop moping around. Let's do something fun before tonight."

"Tonight?" Belle asks. "What's happening tonight?"

"Oh… that's right…." Ruby says. "Before rehearsal, Re…. Madame Mills made an announcement. We all have to be at the first singing rehearsal. Apparently, Zelena is going to sing the opening act for us and we might get some choreography."

"Why didn't Madame Mills remind us?" Belle asks.

"Probably because she wanted you to miss it so she could have an excuse to hate you again tomorrow," Ruby says laughing.

Belle just stares at her.

"It's a joke," Ruby says. "Damn, Belle, you need to lighten up."

XXX

Belle sits in the back of the opera house, watching the people milling about on the stage. It's not often that she gets to sit in the audience anymore. It's a nice break to be watching instead of dancing or acting up on stage.

She and Ruby had passed the few hours of freedom they had by getting lunch and sitting by the fountain outside, watching the pigeons peck at the breadcrumbs on the sidewalk. All in all, a very dull day. At least spending time with Ruby had made it a little better.

He thoughts are interrupted by a voice.

"Hello, everyone," the redhead onstage calls out to them.

Zelena. Everyone seemed to dote over her, but Belle can't stand the woman. She has only ever had one conversation with the singer, but it consisted of Zelena yelling at Belle about "stealing her spotlight" and needing to "stay on her part of the stage" or something.

Belle wishes she had never met the bitter, headstrong woman.

But Zelena is the "Prima Donna", the main soprano of the opera house. Without her, they would be nothing.

Zelena has begun to sing, her voice ringing through the hall, echoing around the rafters. Belle isn't paying attention to the song, her eyes traveling around the opera house. She spots something odd, and does a double take.

One of the backdrops is _crooked._

_That's kind of odd,_ she thinks to herself. _And kind of dangerous too… if that were to fall, someone…._

As if on cue, the backdrop crashes down.

_"He's here!"_

"The Phantom of the Opera!"

People are screaming around her. Some fall to the ground in terror. Belle holds her hands over her head, her eyes fixed on the stage, searching.

Someone is laughing. She can hear it, the laughter almost like music.

"Calm. DOWN!" Madame Mills shouts.

Regina Mills may be downright terrifying, but she gets things done. Her voice cuts through the noise like a gunshot and everyone is silent.

Zelena is sitting up, her hand pressed against her head. Belle can just make out red blood trickling through the woman's fingers, running in little streams down her face.

"Everyone needs to leave," Madame Mills says, her voice tight and sharp. No one moves for a moment. "I want everyone out of this opera house except for Zelena and the managers!"

Belle sits in the back corner, watching as people filed out of the building. She doesn't make a move to follow, hiding in the shadows. Ruby, who had been sitting next to her is gone, disappearing in the crowd.

"This is an outrage!" Zelena shouts.

"I know," Madame Mills says, her voice so soft that Belle can hardly hear it. A doctor is now on the stage, looking at Zelena's head, saying something to Regina and then walking away.

"You don't have a concussion," Madame Mills says. "That's good."

"Nothing about this is good," Zelena snaps back. "I'm being hunted down."

"You are not," Madame Mills responds.

"The Phantom of the Opera…"

"Does not exist!" Madame Mills interrupts her. "That was simply an accident. We will not speak of this further.

Belle watches as the people on the stage leave. She thinks about the first time she ever heard about the Phantom.

There had always been something odd about this opera house. Little things happen; things that could only happen if someone was working behind the scenes.

She remembers the first time a backdrop fell off of its ropes, one that had previously been secured by the head of the stage himself. It had continued to happen-props had begun falling over, things randomly catching fire. A trapdoor even opened below one of the singers once, with nothing at the bottom to break his fall. It nearly killed him.

The main stage hand at that time was fired for his incompetence, and after that, seemingly nothing had gone wrong. Not until now, at least.

She remembered the whispers from her dancer friends.

"It's like a ghost…"

"Someone _wanted_ him to get fired…"

"Someone or something…" That had been Ruby's voice.

"Don't be ridiculous." Belle had said to her. "There is no such thing as ghosts, and there isn't anyone haunting the opera house."

Now Belle isn't so sure.

She sits alone in the opera house, watching the empty stage. She imagines for a moment that she is the one singing the main soprano role. She imagines her voice filling this beautiful room, echoing in her own ears. She imagines pouring her heart into a song, letting all those who listen understand her pain.

Nothing is stopping her, she thinks.

She stands and before she can stop herself, takes a few steps towards the stage.

No! This is ridiculous. She can't sing… not as well as an opera singer (and certainly not as beautifully as Zelena).

A musical voice fills the room. "What's stopping you, my child?"


	2. The Phantom of the Opera!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the positive feedback from chapter one. I really appreciate all of the words of encouragement I've received. If you wouldn't mind, please review this chapter as well (or contact me through my Tumblr, Rumbellelives). Thanks!
> 
> Here is chapter two (which took me a little while to figure out, but I hope it is okay!) I'm nervous about posting this for no reason... I don't know, I just hope you like it as much as the first chapter.
> 
> Note: The song Belle sings in this chapter is called Sleepsong by a Secret garden. I can't add the lyrics because of copyright, but listen to this when you read that part to add to the effect. It makes it a little more beautiful.

Chapter 2: The Phantom of the Opera!

"What's stopping you, my child?"

Belle flinches backwards, whipping her head around. But the voice doesn't have a face (or at least, one that she can see right now).

It's hard to describe the sound of the voice echoing around her. It's gentle and light, floating in the rafters and sending chills down her spine. It reminds her of deep blue silk, dark and smooth and beautiful.

"Hello?" she asks, resisting the urge to run. Her voice is weak and quivering. She looks up into the audience of the opera house but sees nothing but darkness.

"No need to be frightened, dearie. I will not hurt you," the man says, his tone airy. She can hear the laughter in his breath.

Belle doesn't know why, but she believes him. Maybe it's the slight desperation in his voice. Maybe it's because she has had a long day and just wants to have a little fun. But she walks up to the stage, climbing up the narrow stairs and stepping towards the very middle.

It is dark, and she can't see. She is completely exposed out here, and images of what happened to Zelena are flashing through her mind. Her heart pounds.

"What are you waiting for?" the man asks.

"I can't sing," she says, unsure of why she is humoring the man by even standing here on the stage.

"Don't be ridiculous." The man's voice has no malice in it. "I've heard you sing before."

"What… what do you mean?" Belle asks him. "I haven't sung here in years…. and that was for a few minutes after rehearsal."

"Yes, and I heard it," the man says.

"How? That was ages ago!" Belle says, shocked. There was no way he could have heard that let alone remember it…

"I live here."

She suddenly knows exactly who she is talking to. Her breath catches in her throat. She wipes the sweat off her palms. "Are you the Phantom? The Phantom of the Opera?"

"That's not important right now," the man responds, but he doesn't have to say it for Belle to know that it's true… that he is the _Phantom of the Opera._

Until now, she hadn't been sure if the Phantom actually existed. Part of her has always thought the Phantom was a myth, a story that the managers told the singers and dancers to make sure they were in line and did their job. Now it is confirmed to her to be true.

She doesn't know how to feel.

Belle wonders if she should just run. He is a dangerous man. She has seen the aftermath of his actions, has seen the broken props and the injuries. She remembers one time, the lights went out during a rehearsal and an actress fell off the stage and broke her arm.

But the man hasn't hurt her yet, even though he probably could have. So Belle decides to just play along with it. She doesn't believe this to be the 'monster' that everyone else claimed him to be.

She opens her mouth to start singing a song, but this time something else stops her.

"What are you waiting for now?" the man asks, sounding a little impatient with her, but not angry.

"I…" Belle laughs a little, wringing her hands on the edge of her pale green skirt. "I don't know what to sing. Ten years working in an opera house, and suddenly I've forgotten every single song."

There is a few seconds of silence. Belle takes this opportunity to look around her, to try to see who the man is. She sees nothing in the shadows. It doesn't even help that she can hear his voice. It sounds like it's coming from everywhere, bouncing off of every corner, every little dark nook in the opera house.

"Sing me something you know, something that you've heard before and that is close to your heart," the man says.

Belle thinks for a moment. It doesn't take her long to think of the song. It is something that her father used to sing to her when she was a child, his voice soothing her into a peaceful sleep. She can practically hear him now, and she starts the song.

She begins timidly, letting the words slip out of her mouth almost reluctantly. She can feel her heart racing despite the slow and flowing and she takes a little breath. Eyes closing, she lets the song take over, remembering her father singing these words to her.

Belle gets to the second verse, feeling a little more confident. Her voice grows stronger and a smile comes over her face. She opens her eyes again, brushing her hair out of her eyes and letting the music swell through her heart. She can now almost hear the sound of her father's violin playing along with her, warm tones swelling with the sound of her voice.

She sings the last verse, a tear slipping down her cheek. She bites her lip nervously.

There is silence.

Belle can feel the blood rushing to her face. That was bad… the Phantom would be disappointed in her. He had been expecting something beautiful and she had sung him a _child's lullaby._ She knows that she should have just run while she had the chance.

"Why do you look so distressed? That was beautiful," the man spoke after a long moment of silence.

Belle looked up and around. He could see her face! That meant he had to be somewhere in the audience. If he were backstage, the only thing that he could have seen was the back of her head.

"I… thank you…" she says.

"Now, we have a lot of work to do," the man says, more to himself than to her. "The passion is there, but the technique is lacking."

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"I'm going to tutor you. I'm going to teach you how to sing."

XXX

He listens to her voice in the darkness, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. It is as beautiful as he remembered, clear and floating like water on an early spring morning. It makes his heart clench and his chest ache with pain but he doesn't ever want her to stop, wants to sit there and listen to her forever.

He sits in box five, where he always does, watching the rehearsals and performances take place. From here, he can see almost the whole theater, can look out upon the singers and dancers moving about the stage with a strange sort of grace. It was here where he first saw her, where he first lay eyes on beautiful Belle.

He hasn't stopped thinking about her since.

He can just make out her face in the darkness, can see the tears welling in her eyes as she finishes the song.

He must teach her. The desire to train her voice has turned into a need, burning like a wildfire in his chest.

XXX

Rumple isn't sure about how much time passes after the doors of the opera house close behind Belle, leaving him alone. He sits there long after she leaves, watching the empty stage and imagining her there. The sound of her voice still echoes in his ears, and he closes his eyes, remembering.

He has never heard anything more beautiful than her voice.

"Rumple."

The sound of his name makes him flinch, standing up from his chair, ready to flee. But the words come from the stage, and he can see Madame Mills standing there, her face it's usual scowl.

"What is it, Regina?" he asks, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. His hands shake a little and he is not sure why.

"You can't keep doing this!" Regina Mills snaps. She stares off into the audience, but sees nothing in the dim theater.

"Doing what, dearie?" he responds, though he is sure he already knows the answer to his own question.

"This!" she exclaims. She throws her hands in the air in frustration, unable to put her thoughts into words clearly. "This… dropping props on people and slinking around in the dark!"

She clenches her fist and takes a deep breath. "I can not allow what happened to Gaston to happen to Zelena. Just because you don't like someone doesn't mean you should try to murder them!"

Rumple just stands out of his chair, pulling his dark cloak around his figure and pressing back into the shadows to ensure Regina wont see him. "I will do as I please. Gaston deserved it. I didn't like the way he looked at Belle… plus he was a danger to us all!"

Regina lets out a sigh and runs her hand over her face. "I can't keep protecting you like this…" she says. "People are beginning to suspect…."

"Let them!"

The silence is heavy. Regina's shoulders slump. Rumple has never seen her look so old before. In his mind, she is still the young woman who helped him so long ago.

"And now… the girl…" Regina trails off.

"What about her?"Rumple tries to keep the defensiveness out of his voice, but fails miserably.

"Is it wise to…. involve her?" Regina asks him. She is back to normal, her shoulders square and her eyes facing firmly forwards. She is iron.

There is silence. Regina feels a spark of anger in her chest.

"Are you really willing to risk her life?" she asks, fist clenching at her side. There is still no answer.

It is too late. The Phantom of the Opera has faded into the darkness, becoming one with the night.

XXX

The next day, Belle is actually excited to get to rehearsal. It's a little bit strange, the spring in her step and the brightness in her heart. Something in her has changed since yesterday.

She's so excited, she shows up to work twenty minutes early with her hair done and her uniform on. The stage is empty except for a few people, who sit away from her talking in low whispers.

She takes a seat on the edge of the stage, swinging her legs back and forth, heels hitting the back of the the wood. She wishes the other dancers would leave so she could sing.

"What are you doing here so early?" Ruby asks from behind her.

Belle looks over at her friend, who has just entered the stage. She pads over on light feet. The ribbons of her skirt swish around her legs.

"I… I just didn't want Madame Mills to be angry with me, so I decided to try my best to not be late. I guess I tried a little too hard," Belle responds. Her friend sits down next to her on the stage, grinning. 

"You, Belle, not late to something?" Ruby says. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" She tries to reach over and place her palm on Belle's forehead, as if to check for a temperature.

Belle glares at her. "I'm not late _that_ often."

"Joking, Belle. I was joking." Ruby gives her a little shove and stands back up.

In no time, dance rehearsal has started, and Belle goes to the back row, her mind in the rafters of the opera house, thinking about her voice, thinking about singing for him once more.

Madame Mills didn't seem to notice her distraction or didn't seem to care, because she made no comment on Belle's dancing the whole rehearsal. It is a nice change, and Belle actually finds herself smiling as she moves from pose to pose, her feet light.

In no time, the rehearsal was over. Belle stood in the back, waiting for the stage to clear, her heart pounding. Ruby walks over to her.

"Hey, what are you doing for the next hour? I had this idea. See, my friend has this friend…." Ruby trails off, looking at Belle. The girl is obviously not paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?"

"What?" Belle asks, her voice airy.

"Belle, what's gotten into you? You're acting so strange today… early to rehearsal and staring off into space. Are you on narcotics?" Ruby asks.

"No!" Belle responds, and her voice sounds so appalled that Ruby drops the subject immediately.

"So what are you doing later today?" Ruby asks her friend.

"I… I have a lesson," Belle responds.

"Oooh what kind of lesson?" Ruby asks. "Can you afford lessons?"

"I'm learning to sing, and they are free," Belle responds.

"Singing?" Ruby stares at her friend for almost a full minute. Belle didn't seem like the kind of girl to sing. Ruby has always seen her friend as a dancer.

Belle just nods in response.

"Who's your tutor?" Ruby asks.

"I… I don't know."

Ruby just stares at her friend, not quite understanding. Free singing lessons? From someone that she didn't know? This doesn't make any sense to her. How can a person not know their own tutor? It sounded strange and odd and rather dangerous.

Now it is just the two of them standing together, alone in the opera house. Belle looks up into the audience. She seems distracted, and Ruby doesn't even bother saying anything to her for a few moments.

"Belle? Are you sure this is a good idea? Lessons from…. a person you haven't met? How is that even possible?" Ruby asks.

"I… I don't really have time to explain it to you right now, Ruby… I'm sorry," Belle says. Her tone isn't rude, but Ruby can feel the slight impatience. Belle is obviously waiting for her to leave.

"I… I'm going to go now," Ruby responds, and with that, she walks away, not looking back at her friend.

"Wait…" Belle calls out to her friend, suddenly feeling horrible. She had just pushed her best friend away in favor of someone whose face she hasn't even seen yet.

It is too late. Ruby is already outside, the door closing behind her with a click. Belle is alone, with nothing but the empty chairs and high ceilings.


	3. Floating, Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I am terribly sorry for the extended wait. School really started to kick my butt this semester and I had to take a break from TV, tumblr and fanfiction. 
> 
> However, I have some good news for you! I’m back from my hiatus with renewed energy and have already written most of the next few chapters and have the whole story planned out already! Be expecting regular updates from this point to the end of the story!
> 
> Brownie points to whomever sees what I'm doing with the chapter titles. :)

Chapter 3: Floating, Falling

“Belle, remember what I told you about the third verse?” 

His voice interrupts her song, and she bites her lip, cutting off the next line. His words are sharp and clipped, and Belle flinches at the bitterness in his tone. He has been agitated all lesson, almost eager to criticize her every mistake (from her placement on the stage to every single syllable that she sings). 

The Phantom had never been quick to praise her, but he usually didn’t act like this; this irritation and anger is quite new to her. It is only her fourth lesson with the faceless man, and she’s gotten used to the different inflections in his voice. It is the only thing she truly knows about him, the light tenor tones becoming familiar enough to fill her dreams at night. 

He is capable of showing so much emotion through just his words. One moment he sounds adoring and calm, making Belle’s heart feel warm and safe. The next she can hear pain, such a raw and unbridled pain that brings tears to Belle’s own eyes. 

She feels like she has known him forever, that his voice has followed her just beneath the surface of the noise of everyday life. 

Despite this fact however, she doesn’t truly know him. She has never seen his face. She doesn’t even know the man’s name. 

“You are obviously not present at this lesson. Come back to me when you’re ready to pay attention,” he snaps, shaking Belle out of her thoughts. 

“Wait!” she cries. “I’m sorry… I was just thinking…”

There is silence and for a moment, she thought that he had left already. 

“Answer my question,” he responds coldly. 

“I… you told me to open my mouth more on the vowels,” Belle responds. 

“And did you? Because I heard no difference between that mediocre performance and the last three times you sang this,” The Phantom snaps at her. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you today,” Belle responds, her voice tight. She is suddenly angry, her hands clenching into fists at her side. “But you shouldn’t talk to me like that. I know I’m your student, but you have to treat me with respect or this wont work.”

She can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she forces herself to stand up straight and stare defiantly up into the audience.

When he responds next, his voice is filled with so much pain. “I am sorry, Belle…. I… I don’t know what came over me.”

Belle can feel her heart clenching inside her chest at the words. She doesn't know how to respond for a second, closing her eyes and taking a deep slow breath through her nose. All her anger is now replaced by a deep sadness. The fire in her chest is now shattered glass, still painful to touch, but instead of burning her insides, it just cuts her heart with sharp stabs. 

“What happened?” she asks, letting her eyes flutter open. 

“What?” The confusion in his tone makes her heart ache even more. He isn’t sure what she is asking, as if no one had ever shown concern for him before. 

“What happened today to make you so upset?” she asks. 

He answers her gently. “That’s not important right now.” It may have been soft, but Belle can understand the actual strength behind the words. 

So decides not to press any further, opening her mouth to sing once again. _Think about the vowels, she commands herself. Not about the man hidden in the shadows._

 

XXX

That girl could really get under his skin, Rumple thinks to himself later, sitting at his organ, his fingers resting on the keys. 

The sheet music in front of him stood blank, the empty lines mocking him. 

She is dangerous, he thinks. He had for one second believed that she _cared_ for him. 

_No one can ever care for you…. not after what you’ve done._

What happened today to make you so upset? 

He can still hear her words, and they make him flinch. Nothing… nothing had happened. 

And that was the problem.

 

XXX

“Belle.”

The girl winces when she hears her name called. It’s never a good sign to be called after a rehearsal. It usually meant one of two things- you were being fired or you were being asked to change places in a performance, neither of which option Belle wanted right now. 

She stands up, feeling everyone’s eyes watching her as she steps lightly over to Madame Mills. She tries to keep her shoulders straight and her head up. 

“Yes, ma’am?” she asks. 

“I’ve been made aware of a special tutor that you have… for singing?” Madame Mills says. 

“Yes. I’m learning how to sing. But I swear I will still focus on dancing. I won’t let the lessons distract…”

“That’s not why I’m worried, girl,” the woman snaps back. “I’m worried because the man you are working for… this isn’t safe.”

Belle is taken aback by those words. Not safe? Regina Mills is showing care towards her? (Not only that but another thing prickles at the back of her mind. Madame Mills knows the Phantom, and more importantly, she thinks that he is dangerous.)

“I don’t believe that’s true, Madame Mills… respectfully I mean,” she hurries to add, seeing the woman’s sour face. 

“You don’t know him like I do,” she snaps back. “If you are as smart as you think you are, you will know to stop going to these ‘lessons’.”

The clicking of her heels echoes behind her as she stalks away. Belle watches her go, not sure what to believe. 

XXX

“Hello, my dear,” The Phantom says. 

She is in her usual place in the center of the huge stage, the audience as empty as ever. “Hello, Phantom,” she says. 

Regina’s words echo in the back of her mind, but she pushes them away. The Phantom isn’t the man that everyone makes him out to be, she is almost certain of this. 

Yet again, rehearsal feels different today. The Phantom is quiet, reserved, and doesn’t even speak for the first five minutes. She is forced to start the lesson like she always does, singing her vocal warm ups. 

She focuses on the sound of her voice, remembering a time when this was hard for her. The higher notes in her register used to be forced and weak but already, after only a few weeks of instruction she can feel her sound maturing. It is an encouraging realization and it makes her smile as she finishes the exercise. 

Unsure of whether she should continue, she stands patiently. 

“I’ve been thinking….” The Phantom begins. “I think that you are ready for your first public performance.”  


	4. Surrender to your Darkest Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters always feel so… broken for the lack of a better term. Plus this chapter is shorter than normal.. I don’t know how to truly describe it to you all. But I know this is not my best writing and it’s very disappointing to me. 
> 
> Despite my crippling self doubt, I hope that you find enjoyment in this installment! Have a lovely week everyone! I'm working diligently on the next chapter for all of you. :D

Chapter 4: Surrender to your Darkest Dreams

“Ready for… what?” Belle asks. 

“Do not make me repeat myself, child,” The Phantom responds. “I have been impressed with your progress thus far, and I think that the next step in your instruction is to give a public performance. It is one thing to be able to sing this aria in an empty room. It is another to perform in front of a crowd, with every seat full.”

Belle doesn’t know what to say. She can only sit down on the edge of the stage, her palms feeling sweaty. She can’t… she has never been able to even speak in front of a crowd let alone sing a solo aria. That is the reason she’s a background dancer, never in the spotlight long enough to be nervous, but something beautiful and floating behind the scenes.

What is more alarming than her fear, however, is her excitement. She can’t wait. 

“I… I’m not sure I’m ready,” she says. “I still feel like I have a lot to learn.”

“You still do, Belle,” The Phantom says, and she can hear the smile clear as day in his voice. “But one way to learn is to sing in front of others.”

“I… Thank you for this, Phantom!” she says, a grin spread across her face. 

He watches her go, a warm feeling that he is unfamiliar with spreading through his chest. His fingers press into the corner of the white mask that covers his face. 

There was something about her… it made him almost happy. But there was something else… 

Something about her made the darkness inside of him shudder in fear. 

XXX

“The managers are coming to inspect us?” Belle whispers to her friend. “Where did you get that idea from?”

Her heart tightens at the idea. The managers of the opera house usually never came down unless they had a suspicion that something was wrong. They are relatively new managers as well, and Belle had only seen the two of them a couple of times. 

Ruby tightens the laces on her ballet slippers, pointing her foot forwards a few times to make sure that it is fastened to her satisfaction. Her brown hair falls over her eyes, but Belle can make out the little frown on her lips. 

“Yeah, I heard some of the girls talking about it yesterday. Apparently we got some bad reviews on the last performance and they are coming to see how things are being run.” Ruby straightens. 

Belle finds herself glancing over the audience. The Phantom had plans for her to sing for people. She wonders if these plans have to now be put on hold because of the managers. Something else prickles at the back of her mind. It is kind of an odd coincidence that she just so happened to be ready to sing the Aria on the day that the higher ups come and visit. 

“Everyone take a seat!” Madame Mills calls, her voice sharp. 

Belle complies without question, jumping down from the stage, not bothering to take the stairs along with the other dancers. 

“As you all probably already know, the managers are here to visit. They are new and some of you may not have met them…. but here they are. It is my pleasure to introduce Snow White and David Nolan to you all,” Madame Mills says, her head bowed. 

Belle has never seen the woman look so submissive before. It makes her a little bit uncomfortable to see someone so normally proud look so… unnaturally weak. 

Two figures step out to the stage, smiles plastered on both of their faces. One is a taller man, his hair cropped short, a red cloak swooshing around his feet. He looks like a king, and to his right stands his queen. 

Snow White is everything her name implies, her skin pale and her face glowing. Her dark hair curls around her face, framing round checks and a bright smile. 

Belle is drawn to like the couple, despite their foreboding appearance at the opera house. 

“Hello everyone, we are so glad you’re here with us today and get to show us your many talents.” Snow’s voice is warm and Ruby rolls her eyes. Belle pretends not to notice. 

The managers leave the stage and the performances begin. Belle feels her stomach churn. 

Something isn’t right…. something bad is going to happen. She is sure of it. 


End file.
